Touchdown Denied
by AccordingToOurRainbow
Summary: Tristan Taylor sticks up for someone in particular and develops an intense crush. How intense? Well... it has him buying gifts and making his affection known. However things would probably go much smoother if he was a better gift giver. M-Slash! Tristan x Ryou - Protectshipping. Warnings inside, :)
1. Chapter ( 1 )

**Disclaimer:** This is a complete work of fiction. There's no resemblance to actual persons, places and / or events. If so, it is utterly not intended. We do not claim to own Yu-Gi-Oh! or anything to do with it at all. Character exposure in this story is completely non-profit and just for fun. We own nothing but our own plot-bunnies. Thank you.

 **Summary:**  
 _Tristan Taylor sticks up for someone in particular and develops an intense crush. How intense? Well... it has him buying gifts and making his affection known. However things would probably go much smoother if he was a better gift giver. M-Slash!_

 **Warning(s):**  
Coarse Language, Sexual Themes, M-Slash

 **Genre(s):**  
 _Romance, Hurt/Comfort_

 **Pairing(s):**  
Tristan x Ryou - Protectshipping

 **Rating:**  
T - M

 **Author's Note:**  
 _Hi everyone! CreativeWritingSoul here. DanoR1392 and I have collaborated on this short story and we felt it would be awesome to share it with you guys! Please enjoy and let us know what you thought. I will do my best to update as often as I can, but I often forget so bare with me!_

* * *

 **Chapter One**

A pale teen bit his lip for the hundredth time that day, his shoulders so tense they were nearly up to his ears. He gripped his books tight, his locker in sight. Soon he would be able to go home, soon he'd be free of this place. Well until tomorrow anyways.

"Fucking queer." He flinched, tripping over someone's foot, stumbling into the lockers. He heard the laughter and closed his eyes. _'Almost there, just keep going'_. He repeated the words again and again. Finally his fingers touched the metal lock… which was on backwards. He sighed out of irritation and easily did the combination. He knew it better backwards now anyways.

"The fuck?" He stiffened. He _knew_ that voice. He glanced behind him, the man linked with the vocal outburst looked at him and glared. His fist collided with a locker angrily. He tossed the note to the ground, keeping his eyes locked with Ryou. The white haired teen flinched back when they passed him and he watched the jocks leave. His eyes darted to the note. He knew he shouldn't, that curiosity was always a downfall. He quickly went over and grabbed the note, shuffling back to his locker. He opened it and grabbed his backpack and blanched, slamming it shut.

"Oh gods." He held back a gag and stuffed the bag in the trash, shuddering. He decided to carry the needed items instead. He closed the locker and re-locked it. Not that it mattered. He bit his lip and glanced down at the paper, most of the students gone. So he decided to read it.

 _Dear moron bullying the only openly gay boy in class,_

 _I dare you to lay a finger on him._

 _Sincerely, the quarterback with two AMAZING dads._

Before Ryou could turn he heard steps behind him, shoving the note into his pocket, he momentarily panicked. "H-hi," the male was tall, brunette, broad shoulders and slender figure. He wore typical bright red converse and school uniform. "did you uh, need a hand with anything?"

"Who, me?" Ryou glanced around. Of course him, no one else was nearby. He blushed and cleared his throat, shifting the mass amount of supplies from his locker. He usually brought everything home every night. Plus there was a rancid smell coming from his locker now thanks to what he found in his bag. "I-I'm okay." He avoided eye contact. Last thing he needed was another person to owe a favor for, or worse, another fake friend.

Tristan had to admit, the smell was very questionable. But even that didn't give him the desire to leave. "Oh, well... I, alright. I suppose. Let me uh, get rid of this. Anything in it that you, needed?" The bag did seem quite dead, or it certainly smelled like it. He would be willing to sift through it if need be.

"No, at least nothing I can't replace." He cleared his throat. "Sorry about that." He nodded to the bag.

Tristan tied up the garbage bag with the backpack in it, hoping that would mask the smell slightly. "That's, well, not good but - okay I suppose."

Ryou shifted awkwardly, glancing back behind him. Less than 50 meters was the door. Then he'd just have to survive the twenty minute walk home. He cleared his throat, shifting his things. Damn his arms were already getting sore. "I ah, I should go. Thanks for taking care of it for me."

Tristan's cheeks blushed as he watched the other leave. _'Lame! Shit Tristan, you're so lame. Should've just asked him out, or kissed him. Damn it all, lameness.'_ He thought to himself bitterly. He sighed, moving the garbage can to the other side of the hall before deciding it was time to head to practice, before the coach neutered him.

* * *

Ryou was approaching the school doors, when he found they automatically opened for him. He paused a moment, his hand still outstretched, a new, well old backpack from a couple years ago, slung over his shoulder. "Uhm, thanks." He slipped into the hall, leaning away from Tristan as he passed. He saw his locker and a moment of fear hit him. What if they put another dead rat in there?

Tristan followed closely, he couldn't explain it but there was something about this boy. He just wanted to look at him and beat up anyone who tried to damage him. But little did he know, the majority of damage was long done. He stayed close by, awaiting the same thing Ryou was, opening the locker.

Ryou scrunched up his shoulders anxiously. Did he _have_ to follow him like that? It was creepy. He opened his locker. It was empty. Well except a note. He let out a relieved breath and picked it up. A note he could handle.

 _Hey you little shit. What'd you do? Pay the brainless oaf to fight your battles for you? Won't be long until he bails on you too. No amount of money in the world could buy you friends, even fake ones_

He flinched and crumpled the note, his head bowed. He hugged his books close.

The only thing he saw whilst on the other side of the hallway at his own locker, was the short teen bowing his head, crumpling up paper. It pissed him off so badly, why did people have to waste their time and put so much effort into bullying? It didn't make them cool, it made them idiots.

It was about time that he received something nice in his locker. Tristan had it in mind to order flowers and have them delivered, which he'd put into Ryou's locker. He only saw the combination once and already had it memorized. He wanted to show him that he liked him, hopefully the flowers would do a better job of talking than Tristan himself did. He could only hope.

Ryou sighed heavily and tossed the note in the garbage, heading to class. He'd just bring his bag with him. Last thing he needed was to buy another bag. How could he possibly pay someone to help him when he didn't have money for a new bag? No, that was a lie. His family was rich, they just didn't give a crap about him.

He slipped into the classroom, placing his disheveled backpack on the floor between his feet. Half the students were already in, but no teacher in sight yet.

Tristan entered the classroom and sat in the back, in perfect ogling distance of Ryou. He had been researching, with _'google'_ being his preferred search engine, how to show someone that you liked them, or cared for them. It wasn't very helpful, but it gave him a couple ideas. Such as the flowers, which he'd already ordered. His father always used this floral shop, he'd have flowers sent to the house for his other father, for as long as Tristan could remember.

His two fathers had a very romantic, loving relationship. They were very close and with Tristan as their only child, they wanted to show him what a relationship was supposed to be all about, with a man or woman, whichever he would choose, they would be okay with.

No one had ever turned his head like Ryou did, before him, Tristan didn't give a shit about anyone. But now, he was Tristan's object of affection, or the attempt of anyhow.

Ryou placed his needed books on his desk and tried to relax. A student walked past, knocking the neatly arranged book onto the floor.

"Oops." He snickered and Ryou frowned. He went to reach for it, watching the burgundy item shoot across the floor instead. He closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing.

"Awe, what's wrong?" He leaned down close. "Gonna cry?" Laughter filled the area from the surrounding students. Ryou sat up straight and took out a second notebook, keeping a good grip on this one. He wouldn't give them the reaction they wanted.

Tristan felt the textbook hit his foot, he picked it up and walked over to the trouble-causing student and in a swift move hit him with the heavy textbook. In the face and then upside the head. He pulled out a pocket sized bottle of sanitizer, spritzing a little on the book. "Don't want douche-bag all over this good text book." He set it on Ryou's desk, never ceasing his glare towards the other student as he sat back down.

Ryou stared at the book and slowly looked back at the brunette. He quickly looked away when their eyes locked. His cheeks went bright red. His tormentor was rubbing the now sore spots on his skull, sending a glare at Ryou. Finally the teacher walked in.

Tristan didn't mind what-so-ever, it was now a full period he'd have of staring at Ryou. He didn't need to pay attention today, he was passing this class. It might have been barely, but he was still passing. He was only in need of paying attention when he was close to failing. No pain, no gain.

* * *

Ryou sighed and started to his locker. He always hated opening it. He reached out and did the combination, letting out controlled breaths. Nothing was going to jump out. It smelled… strong… almost like perfume… He furrowed his brows and opened the locker.

He stared for a long moment. They were beautiful, the flowers. All warm colors, all wonderfully bloomed. Only problem?

 _Achoo!_

He pinched his nose, closing the locker quickly, a sneeze attack starting. He dropped his books in the process, his head spinning from the force of the sneezes, the smell starting to bother him.

He'd taken off to the bathroom by the time Tristan walked by, expecting an impressed Ryou to be swooning over the flowers, only his books were on the floor and he was no where around. Tristan picked up his books and arranged them perfectly, just as Ryou would do himself. He checked the flowers for bees or something but there weren't any.

Maybe he didn't like flowers? Damn it all he should've asked. But would it still have been considered a surprise if he had asked? He somehow doubted it.

Although the locker did smell much better today than it did yesterday...

Ryou spent a good ten minutes in the bathroom, groaning and splashing his face, trying to get his irritated eyes to let up. Finally he blew his nose one last time, washed his hands, and headed back out. He paused mid step. He was there again… that jock… holding his books. He hesitantly walked over, clearing his throat but not planning on saying anything.

He gave a big, yet awkward smile as he held out the books. "Here," His voice almost shrunk, in volume, in masculinity, in everything. "I um, I piled them exactly the same way you do... they were on the floor... here you go."

"Yeah, thanks." Ryou said slowly, taking the items from the other, he leaned away. Did he sack himself or something? He glanced at his locker. "Oh, hey, do you know what asshole put flowers in my locker? I have one hell of an allergy to them." He resisted the urge to rub his nose at the mere thought of those flowers.

 _'It's no wonder he ended up with a rat in his locker, if flowers don't impress him... yikes.'_ Tristan shook the thought away from his mind as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "I - I don't know who did that! What a dickwad..." he glanced at the pretty looking flowers. "let me uh, get rid of them for you." Again he found himself throwing something out and tying up the garbage bag so the scent wouldn't bother Ryou. They did cost a pretty penny, but apparently they weren't very liked. He should have asked.

"Thanks. Y'know, pretty much everyone knows I'm allergic to flowers. And it's just so frustrating! It's like… like they're trying to make me sick!" He sighed heavily. "I don't even know why I'm telling you this." _'You're just going to laugh at me later like everyone else does.'_ He thought to himself. He bowed his head, gripping his backpack tight, hugging it to his chest.

Tristan tilted his head slightly, looking down at him. "I care to listen. You can talk. It's fine with me." He told the other softly, maybe it was just time to tell the truth? That might be the better option, he'd remind himself not to have anything to do with flowers anymore.

Ryou looked at him skeptically. "Right. So you can tell your friends what they don't already know? Please, I've been down this road before. First you friend me, then you try to get in my pants, when you do, you tell the school. Been there, done that, not going there again." He pushed past, walking quickly.

Tristan stood there, rather dumbfounded. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't want in your pants... but, I just want... a relationship." He sighed heavily, he wanted to make it up to Ryou somehow. He wasn't sure how, but he would do his best to try. For now, he'd have to go the rest of the day with the troubled teen on his mind.

* * *

Finally, school was over and Ryou couldn't wait to get home. He'd lugged his backpack around all day and was about to leave when he'd passed his locker and noticed something taped to it. Instead of ignoring it, he sighed and walked towards it. Discovering a chocolate bar taped to the locker, with a post-it note that simply said, 'I'm nuts for you'.

His eye visibly twitched. He nearly growled and threw the treat out. Were they trying to kill him? This school was as bad as the last one! He noticed his… follower looking stunned, and crossed his arms defiantly. "Someone taped a chocolate bar with peanuts to my locker…" He noticed the others puzzled reaction. "I'm allergic to nuts."

 _'What isn't he allergic to?! This is getting frustrating. Just ask him out! Do it!'_ Tristan shooed his thoughts away, trying to take in why Ryou was upset. "I, I see. Well, it's the thought that counts, isn't it?"

Ryou raised his brow. "And what thought is that?" He glared at the other, tapping his foot impatiently.

Tristan had the perfect answer in his mind, but he had extreme difficulties speaking those words. "Uh, well... that you might have been, hungry?" That was it, he should just walk away right now. It would probably save him the humiliation.

"Right. I'm so hungry I'd eat my allergy. I'm not _that_ skinny!" He glared and stomped on Tristan's foot, walking off, the school doors flying open with the force.

Tristan shook his foot lightly, he hadn't felt much. Almost as if there was little to no force at all, despite it looking like Ryou gave it his all. "I suck at gift giving..." he sighed and glanced at the treat in the garbage, he felt the temptation to grab it and drown his sorrows in it, but he decided against it. He had practice anyway and better get going before he'd be yelled at for being late once again.

 **:: Yu :: Gi :: Oh ::**


	2. Chapter ( 2 )

**Chapter Two**

A sigh left chapped lips. His father came burrowing down the stairs, bumping to the teen.

"Oh! Sorry dad-"

"Watch it! Don't stand in the door way!" He shook his head bewildered at his son. "Honestly Ryou." He left in a hurry, checking his watch. Ryou frowned and finished hanging his coat up in the closet, since he was momentarily interrupted from doing that.

"Oh Ryou, darling! Mommy's got to go to a dinner party tonight! There's leftovers in the freezer! Try not to eat it all, don't want you getting fat now, do we?" She kissed the air next to his cheek. "Oh and sometime soon your brother is coming for a visit! So he'll need your room, of course. We made arrangements for you to stay with one of your father's business colleagues! Well, toodaloo!" She waved, slipping out of the house, yelling something at his father.

"Hi mom, hi dad. I'm home." He mumbled, walking towards the stairs. "How was your day today, son?" Ryou dropped his voice. "Fan-fucking-tastic! Someone tried to give me flowers and then gave me peanuts. How was yours?" He sighed, heading into his room and closing the door. Not that it mattered, no one else was there anyways.

"No worries about the room, of course he can stay in it, he's the golden boy son! Shall I grab a sleeping bag for the front lawn? Oh, you actually found me a place to stay this time? How thoughtful." He rolled his eyes

Ryou climbed into his desk chair and flicked on his laptop, checking his emails. "Hate mail, hate mail, hate mail, no I don't need Viagra, hate mail… what's this?" He opened the strangely titled email.

 _Just for you, Bakura._

He clicked the link and his heart dropped into his stomach. A website. They made a website dedicated to slandering him. He scrolled down and his breath caught. That was… no… he got rid of all the copies! How did that get there?! He watched the night vision, short video in horror. The boy that tricked him into sleeping with him had recorded it. This he knew. He had threatened to put it on the internet, but Ryou thought he got rid of all the copies. Apparently not though.

He quickly closed the site and walked over to his bed. A sob left him and his knees gave way. He sat on the floor, back against his bed and let the cries fall. It wasn't like anyone would hear him cry anyways.

* * *

Tristan opened the front door and shut it, letting out a sigh of relief when the cool air of the household hit him, the faint smell of cinnamon and frosting hanging in the air. It was enough to drive anyone insane with hunger. He slid off his shoes, he was all sweaty and fatigued from practice, coming home was always the perfect start to the evening.

There was a note on the mantel:

 _Hey sport!_

 _I'm gonna be at the office late, your father is home, probably baking because you know when he's upset I have to stay late, he bakes. I love you both very much, I should be home shortly after 7pm._

 _Dad, xo_

Tristan gave a nod as he left the note where he found it, entering the kitchen.

"Ooh! Tristy! You're home, hi hon." Raphael went to hug his son but backed up right away, "Oh hell-to-the-no, I will hug you after your shower, okay sweet pea? Don't sweat on my cinna-bons! They're just delightful aren't they?" He hardly let Tristan have a word in edgewise as he wiped the tall teen's forehead with a dry cloth, just to kiss it.

"They're sick!" Tristan commented.

Raphael's face fell, he was clearly offended. "What, do you not like them?"

Tristan waved a hand in protest, "No, no! 'Sick' is a cool term, it means awesome."

The older, flamboyant man raised a suspicious brow. "You kids and your terms these days. I hope I get 'sick' then!"

Tristan shook his head, "You're always awesome."

"That's my Tristy!" Tristan spontaneously hugged his dad anyways, who near squealed, remembering that he hadn't showered. "Oh you scoundrel, get into that shower before I chase you down outside with the garden hose!"

Tristan grinned and left to shower off all the sweat and grime he'd earned from a hard day's practice. He was looking forward to an evening of rest and relaxation, trying to get his mind off the continuous rejection he'd been faced with.

Raphael sighed as he flipped through the television channels, he'd just finished a marathon of wedding dress shows, offering his opinion even though he knew it wasn't being heard. "Tristy, I'm feeling a bit of action tonight. Your daddy's not home to deliver the exact kinda action I'm desiring, so how's about some superhero movie or something? I may be married, but I'm not dead - I can stand to look at a man in tights."

After several minutes of silence and more channel surfing, he raised an eyebrow when he felt sudden pressure on his shoulder. Looking down, he noticed Tristan was fast asleep. He shifted a little, a slight grunt, but found a comfortable enough spot on Raphael's shoulder.

"Oh I suppose you can nap, you're a growing boy after all." He took in the scent of the new cologne he'd bought for Tristan. "Only my little boy smells like a man now!" He exclaimed softly, as to not wake his sleeping teenager.

The lock in the door rotated and Raphael thought about throwing Tristan on the floor to greet his husband, but he decided against that. But his heart did skip a beat knowing that his beloved was now home.

Meanwhile Ryou followed the man up the steps. Apparently the decision to have Ryou stay was very last minute. As in 'can you take my kid? Great thanks!' sort of deal. He paused when the door was open, the man smiling at him and stepping aside, motioning for him to go ahead and enter. Ryou grabbed his worn out backpack, a few changes of clothes jammed inside.

Ryou slipped into the small home. It seemed cozy and the man, John he was told to call him, seemed very nice. The smell of cinnamon wafted his senses and his eyes closed momentarily. He looked around at the comfortable furniture, the soft colored walls. It was such a contrast to his large, minimalistic decor of his own home. Every room felt as cold as ice there. Sometimes he thought he may see his breath just from the look of the place. There wasn't a single picture frame in his house, well except in this one cabinet. That was full of his brother's accomplishments. But here? He couldn't find a spot on the wall of this home that wasn't filled with memories.

Raphael soon appeared in the humble front foyer, hugging his husband Jonathan tightly. "Hello my sweet, how was your day?" He glanced over at Ryou, "Oh! This must be our house guest you told me about. Hello, do come in won't you? I just finished making cinnamon buns, freshly frosted. Come, come, come." He ushered them inward, "And by the way, your son sleeps like a tank." He swatted Jonathan, who smirked in response.

"Of course he does, so do I." He gave a smile, "This is Ryou Bakura, he'll be staying with us for. . ." actually he wasn't sure how long, his colleague never did say. "awhile." he decided on that response for now.

"Well hi Ryou, it's a pleasure to meet you. Come in from the cold."

"Thank you." He bowed politely and straightened back up, avoiding eye contact. He slipped farther in, still hugging his bag. He had to admit he felt awkward standing in a stranger's residence.

It wasn't long before he had the tray of deliciously frosted cinnamon buns in front of him, being offered. They looked wonderful, as if they were from a page in a food magazine. "They're wondrous dear, but we should let Ryou get settled first before we dive into the treats, alright?" Raphael gave a nod, supposing John would know what's right. He walked away with them, leaving the two in the foyer. "Excuse my husband, Raphael, he comes off rather strong and I know he's flamboyant, but he's harmless once you've been around him for awhile. He loves people and socializing, so I apologize if he becomes too much for you. I love him to death, but I know he can be overpowering." He explained, sliding his loafers off and opening up the coat closet, putting his coat away and briefcase inside the closet door.

Ryou gave a nervous smile. "It's different. My home is very different. Well, you know my father so I guess you might have an idea…" He cleared his throat, his voice cracking a few times from nervousness.

Jonathan gave a soft smile, "Don't feel nervous. Here is the last place you'll be judged, believe me. And yes, I can't imagine living with the likes of, pardon me if I'm crossing the line, your _father_ would be pleasant. We know how he works, smiles in your face and stabs you in the back. You, your loved ones, theoretically speaking. My apologies Ryou." he cleared his throat and welcomed the other into the living room, where a very soft, light snore was coming from an occupant on the sofa.

"No, it sounds like you've got the picture for the most part." He turned, shifting his bag. It made him feel safe holding it. He looked at the teen on the couch and dropped the bag, and his jaw, in shock. "You…" It was quiet. He walked over quickly. "You!" Ryou whacked the sleeping teen with his backpack, hard, his voice going frantic. "What the hell is wrong with you? Why won't you leave me alone?" He glared at the half asleep jock. "Everywhere I go, you're there! And you keep trying to give me stuff that'll kill me!" His voice ended in a growl.

It was very clear that Ryou and Tristan somehow knew one another. John slipped into the kitchen to occupy Raphael a little while longer, so Tristan and Ryou could have a few moments alone.

Tristan blinked a few times, shielding himself from the heavy backpack. "On the contrary to your beliefs, not everyone knows everything about you! I wasn't trying to 'kill' you! Who doesn't like flowers?! I... I was just, I wanted. . . you to notice me, like I notice you." He trailed off softly, ready to shield himself from another hit with the backpack if need be.

Ryou paused and hugged his bag just as suddenly as he swung it. "What do you mean, noticed me? I worked hard at _not_ being noticed! Not that it helped much…" He frowned remembering the bullying from just earlier that day. He shot a glare at Tristan, stepping in such a way his side faced him, ready to run if need be.

Tristan sat up slightly, "I don't think you'd care for my explanation, but I _like_ you okay? You obviously don't like me but that's okay, I won't make this visit hard on you. I, I want you to be as comfortable as possible. So you're taking my bed, and yes - I changed all linen and everything. You seem like the type who would worry about dead skin cells all over sheets." He stretched, still somewhat half-asleep. "I'll show you to the room, come on." He got up from his spot on the sofa, starting towards the carpeted spiral staircase.

Ryou gripped his bag and hesitantly followed. Why would he tell him he liked him? He shook his head. No, this is how it all started before. He wouldn't fall for that again! He followed behind the other, keeping a decent distance between them. His eyes took in the broad shoulder blades through his shirt. He followed down and looked away quickly. He shouldn't be looking there.

Before Raphael could 'Ooh' or 'Ahh' out loud, John covered his mouth as they disappeared up the stairs.

Tristan creaked nearly every other board on the stairs, where as Ryou barely made a sound. When he looked to make sure Ryou was still behind him, he was startled to find that he was. "It's right over here, the last door on the right hand side, and the bathroom is right next to it."

It didn't look like a typical jock's bedroom. What he was expecting were clothing piled on the floor, maybe a half-eaten sandwich from last week, a messy bed - the whole nine yards but he wasn't expecting a completely spotless bedroom.

Ryou looked around quietly, still hugging his bag like a life line. "It's… nice." He subconsciously walked to the window, looking out at the scenery. Despite the darkness, it calmed him. It was peaceful. He sat down without realizing, resting his head on his bag, bringing his socked feet up onto the window seat. He reached out and gently touched the glass, feeling the cold touch of it.

Tristan felt loyal to Ryou, especially since he was now staying under their roof, he wanted to protect him. He didn't want to say anything to scare him, although his reaction to the window was a bit odd. They only lived in a cozy two-story home, with a finished basement. It was humble, but what they called home. The backyard had a big flower bed that Raphael worked on religiously. It wouldn't be up much longer as the days were starting to get a little colder, but it remained so far. "Do you, uh, like the scenery?"

Ryou gave a nod. "Yeah." He let out a breath and sighed, continuing to look out the window instead of at Tristan. "I always wanted a bay window to read in." He admitted. "They turned that room into their work-out room though." He frowned and picked at a loose thread on his bag. As he did this, the zipper split. Ryou looked at it and frowned. He took out safety pins from another pocket and stuck them in by the broken metal, holding it closed. "You'd think I was poor with my clothes and bags. But I'm not. I'm very wealthy. Well my parents are." He looked back out the window.

Tristan nodded, listening to his every word. "That won't last long in this house, my dad's got a keen eye for clothes, he'll have you a new wardrobe before you can turn around. Not flashy like him or anything, but y'know." He remained exactly where he was in the doorway. "We have tons of books, books I've never even seen before. Right in the study here, directly across the hall. This one? It's totally bone-chilling." He grabbed a random book from the side table, not realizing it was the dictionary.

Ryou raised a brow and couldn't stop the laugh that started to bubble out. Soon he was gasping for breath, hiding his face in his bag. He shook his head amused. He looked at the taller, a smile actually reaching his eyes. "Thanks, I needed a laugh." The smile was gone just as quick as it appeared. He went back to picking at his bag.

Tristan gave a soft smile, it felt good to make Ryou laugh. "I'm not sure what we're having for- oh, yes I do. It's uh, homemade lasagna. I didn't throw out everything with nuts!" He was about to run and do that until he collided with his father, Raphael.

"Whoa baby, slow down there. If you're gonna throw out everything with nuts, dad's the first thing to go!" He chuckled. "Is everything okay?"

Ryou blushed. "I ah, I'm allergic to nuts…" He cleared his throat. Suddenly his eyes widened. "I forgot my Epi-Pen! Father's going to kill me." He groaned out, thumping his head against his bag. "I'm terribly sorry, but could I by chance borrow a phone?" he shifted awkwardly, slowly standing up, bag still glued to him.

Raphael scoffed lightly, smacking Tristan upside the head, softly of course. "Why did you not tell me he was allergic to nuts?"

Tristan himself hadn't even known. "While we're here, he's allergic to flowers and strawberries too, I think. And nuts."

He walked into the other room, bringing out a phone. "Here you go sweetie, if you need anything don't hesitate to let us know. Dinner is in an hour and I haven't touched any nuts, not even daddy's." He walked away, laughing.

Tristan's face went beet red, he hoped Ryou didn't hear that.

Ryou blushed and took the phone, dialing his father's number hesitantly.

 _You have reached Bakura, Hayato. I'm unable to take your call at the moment. Please leave your name, number and reason for your call._

Ryou sighed. "Father? It's Ryou. I'm so sorry, but I seem to have forgotten my Epi-Pen. Would someone please be able to bring it by? I'm at…" He gave the address and number to his father, hanging up awkwardly. He shifted and bit his lip. Hopefully one of the chauffeurs would bring it by.

He glanced back at Tristan, holding out the phone for him. It was then that it dawned on him. "You." It was soft. "You got me those flowers, didn't you?"

Tristan flinched, "I'm sorry! I won't do it again I swear!" It turned out that Ryou was just shifting his bag, he wasn't going to hit him with it again.

"Oh! Sorry." For the first time that night, he willingly lowered his bag until it touched the floor. He still had it leaning against his leg though. He hugged his torso. "I-it's okay. They were beautiful. Were they a prank? Why are you giving me things? Why do you like me?" He shifted, not looking at the taller. It had been a long time since someone wanted to be his friend. Even the boy he slept with three or four years ago… he never gave him anything but a bad reputation.

Tristan shook his head, "I'd have to be an idiot to drop a hundred on flowers for a prank." as he shrugged his shoulders. Even though he had to throw them out because the object of his affection was allergic, there was still that one moment of awe, _that_ was what Tristan chose to remember. "I don't know why I like you, I just do. You give me feelings I can't explain, even though I unknowingly tried to kill you twice, can we call a... a truce?" He held out his hand meekly.

Ryou stared. A hundred dollars on flowers? And he had Tristan throw them in the garbage! Ryou looked at the hand for a long moment, leaving Tristan to feel awkward standing like that. Slowly Ryou reached out and took his hand between forefinger and thumb, doing one quick shake and yanking his hand back to his chest.

Tristan took Ryou's silence, as his agreement to their new truce.

 **:: Yu :: Gi :: Oh ::**


End file.
